A Dedicated Man

SIX

Though the sun still lingered low on the horizon, it was dark on Market Street in the shadow of the buildings on the western side, and the cobbled square was deserted. Banks hadn’t even bothered to turn on his office light after returning to go over his notes. Sandra had gone home to assure Brian and Tracy that they weren’t becoming latchkey children. The door was closed and the dark room was full of smoke. Occasionally he heard footsteps in the corridor outside, but nobody seemed to know he was there.

As was his habit when a case felt near to its end, he sat by the window smoking and rearranged the details in his mind four or five times. After about an hour things still looked the same. The pattern, the picture, was complete, and however unbelievable it was, it had to be right. Eliminate the impossible and whatever is left, however improbable, must be the truth. Or so Sherlock Holmes had said.

It was time for action.

Banks played no music as he drove towards the purplish-red sunset west along Swainsdale; his mind was far too active to take in anything more. Finally he swung up the hill to Gratly, turned sharp left after the bridge and pulled up outside the Steadman house. There were no lights on. Banks cursed and walked down the path to Mrs Stanton’s.

‘Oh, hello Inspector,’ she greeted him. ‘I didn’t expect to see you again. Please come in.’

‘Thank you very much,’ Banks said, ‘but I don’t think I will. I’m a bit pushed for time. If you could just answer a couple of quick questions?’

Mrs Stanton frowned and nodded.

‘First of all, have you any idea where Mrs Steadman is?’

‘No, I haven’t. I think I heard her car about an hour or so ago, but I’ve no idea where she was going.’

‘Did you see her?’

‘No, I wasn’t looking. Even if I was it wouldn’t matter, though. They’ve got a door from the kitchen goes straight into the garage. Money,’ she said. ‘They’ve even got those automatic doors. Just press a button.’

‘Which direction did she drive off in?’

‘Well, she didn’t come past here.’

‘So she went east?’

‘Aye.’

‘Do you remember that Saturday you spent watching television with her?’ Mrs Stanton nodded slowly. ‘Do you know if she went out again after she got home?’

Mrs Stanton shook her head. ‘I certainly didn’t hear her, and I was up for more than an hour pottering around.’

‘Last Friday night, did she go out at all?’

‘Couldn’t tell you, Inspector. That was my bingo night.’

‘Your husband?’

‘Pub. As usual.’

‘This was a regular Friday night arrangement?’

‘Ha! For him it’s a reg’lar every night arrangement.’

‘And you?’

‘Aye, I go to bingo every Friday. So does half of Swainsdale.’

‘Mrs Steadman?’

‘Never. Not her. Not that she’s a snob, mind. What pleases some folks leaves others cold. Each to his own is what I say.’

‘Thank you very much, Mrs Stanton,’ Banks said, leaving her mystified as he got back into the Cortina and set off toward Helmthorpe.

He parked illegally in High Street by the church, right at the bottom of Penny’s street. There was a light on in her front room. Banks walked quickly up the path and knocked.

He was surprised when Jack Barker answered the door.

‘Come in, Chief Inspector,’ Barker said. ‘Penny’s not here, I’m afraid. Or have you come to ask me where I was on Friday evening?’

Banks ignored the taunt; he had no time for games. ‘Has she said anything odd lately about the Steadman business?’ he asked.

Puzzled, Barker shook his head. ‘No. Why?’

‘Because I got the impression she was holding something back. Something she might not have been sure about herself. I was hoping I could persuade her to tell me what it was.’

Barker lit a cigarette. ‘As a matter of fact,’ he said, ‘Penny has been a bit strange the few times I’ve seen her lately. Secretive and touchy. She hasn’t said anything, though.’

Banks sat down and began tapping the frayed arm of the chair. ‘You two,’ he said, looking around the room. ‘Are you… er…?’

‘Playing house? Not really. No such luck. I was here for dinner. We just had a bit of a row about the very thing you just mentioned, actually. She left and I’m waiting for her to come back.’

‘Oh?’

‘I suggested she knew more than she was letting on, and she accused me of treating her like a criminal, just like you did.’

‘That’s what she thinks?’

‘Well, you have been giving her a rough time; you can’t deny it.’

Banks looked at his watch. ‘Is she coming back soon?’

‘I’ve no idea.’

‘No idea? Where is she?’

‘I told you,’ Barker said. ‘We had a row and she stormed out.’

‘Where to?’

‘I don’t know.’

‘Did she say anything?’

‘She said she was going to see a man about a dog.’

‘A lot of help that is.’

‘Just what I thought.’

‘And you’d been on at her about knowing something?’

‘Yes.’

‘Did she take the car?’

‘Yes.’

‘Right.’ Banks got to his feet. ‘Come on.’

Without thinking, Barker jumped up and obeyed the command. Banks only gave him time to blow out the candles and lock the door.

‘Look, what’s going on?’ Barker asked as they shot into the darkening dale. ‘You’re driving like a bloody lunatic. Is something wrong? Is Penny in danger?’

‘Why should she be?’

‘For Christ’s sake, I don’t know. But you’re behaving damned oddly, if you ask me. What the hell’s happening?’

Banks didn’t reply. He focused all his concentration on driving, and the silence intensified as darkness grew. On the northern outskirts of Eastvale, he turned on to the York Road.

‘Where are we going?’ Barker asked a few minutes later.

‘Almost there,’ Banks replied. ‘And I want you to do exactly as I say. Remember that. I’ve only brought you with me because I know you’re fond of Penny and you happened to be in her house. I’d no time to waste, and you might be some use, but do as I say.’ He broke off to overtake a lorry.

Barker gripped the dashboard. ‘So you’ve not brought me along for the pleasure of my company?’

‘Give me a break.’

‘Seriously, Chief Inspector, is she in danger?’

‘I don’t know. I don’t know what we’re going to find. Don’t worry, though, it won’t be long now,’ he said, and the tyres squealed as he turned sharp left. About a quarter of a mile along the bumpy minor road, Banks pulled into a driveway and Barker pointed and said, ‘That’s her car. That’s Penny’s car.’

A face peered through a chink in the curtains as they jumped out of the Cortina and hurried towards the door.

‘No time for pleasantries,’ Banks said after trying the handle to no avail. He stood back and gave a hard kick, which splintered the wood around the lock and sent the door flying open. With Barker close behind, he rushed into the living room and quickly took in the strange tableau.

There were three people. Michael Ramsden stood facing Banks, white-faced and slack-jawed. Penny lay inert on the couch. And a woman stood with her back to them all.

In a split second, it came to life. Barker gasped and ran over to Penny, and Ramsden started to shake.

‘My God,’ he groaned, ‘I knew this would happen. I knew it.’

‘Shut up!’ the woman said, and turned to face Banks.

She wore a clinging red dress that accentuated her curves; her hair was drawn back into a tight V on her forehead and carefully applied blusher highlighted the cheekbones of her heart-shaped face. But the most striking thing about her was her eyes. Before, Banks had only seen them watery and distorted through thick lenses, but now she was wearing contacts they were the chilly green of moss on stones, and the power that shone through them was hard and piercing. It was Emma Steadman, transformed almost beyond recognition.

Ramsden collapsed into an armchair, head in hands, whimpering, while Emma continued to glare at Banks.

‘You bastard,’ she said, and spat at him. ‘You ruined it all.’ Then she lapsed into a silence he never heard her break.